No Absolution

by N. M. Bell

  Immediately, Jake set out to follow them. Red flickers of light danced across his vision and his hands formed fists in the folds of his cloak. The sound of her laughter and the gentle timbre of her voice drew him like a lodestone through the narrow street. How could she? How could she flirt with the man like a common lightskirt, what was the auld man thinking letting her out on her own? He was close enough to catch snatches of their conversation, the man’s mention of courtship made Jake’s step stutter on the wet cobbles. He almost burst from his concealment to scream his anguish at the thought. He caught himself in time and stifled the urge. The knife which he carried with him at all times now, nestled against his thigh. Sharp and smooth it whispered against the cloth, teasing him with dark and cold thoughts of vengeance. But, no, Aggie wasn’t to blame here, it was the fecking detective. Idiots, the lot of them.

  His face grew hot, and despite the chilling mist and the drizzle which had turned to rain, sweat ran down his spine. The woman looked back over her shoulder as they turned into a gate leading to a short walk. Jake caught his breath at the sight of her countenance shining in the soft light of the gas lamp. Surely, no creature more beautiful walked the face of the earth. The detective reached an arm around her to steady her as they approached the door.

  She is mine, Jake raged silently.

  The anger and the sibilant seduction of the blade excited him, his penis rose rampant against his taut belly. He must control the urges of the flesh, the lust that should not be slaked by any woman. The pleasures of sin gave a woman unholy power over a man: Father preached that fact constantly. Jake knew he was weak, his balls tightened and his flesh twitched against the fabric of his trousers. Walk, he would walk until the cursed urge passed. Jake opened his jacket and let the rain chill his body, hoping it would ease the pressure in his groin. With each step he took, the image of Aggie and the man in the lamp light burned on his inner eye. He stumbled on the wet pavement, gripping a door jamb to keep from falling. Each vision of her face upturned in the ethereal light sent new fissions of tension coiling in his gut, enraging his passion to such a degree the pain was almost pleasure. Relief, he must get relief. Even Father had been weak at one time, he married Mam after all, and he himself was living proof that Father had answered the siren call of carnal pleasures.

  He straightened from the doorway where he leaned. Somewhere in the distance a clock struck the midnight hour. Jake had no idea how long he stood in the dark and wet fighting to gain control of his raging flesh. Far too long to be able to catch a glimpse of Aggie returning home with the detective. He pushed away from the cold brick wall and headed back toward Miller’s Court. The desire for pleasures of the flesh still ruled his body, just this once he would break his rule, disobey Father and take a whore. He fairly wept from the pain in his balls and yet somehow his spirit revelled in the sensation. Spirals of pleasure teased him with the promise of release, how good it would feel to bury himself in hot flesh, so much better than his own hand which he resorted to when he could not be strong. Aggie … her soft hands, her warm lips … the rounded curve of her buttocks … the cleft that hid her fanny….

  His penis twitched and convulsed, the pain in his groin almost brought him to his knees and then his cock exploded while he clung to a dark wall and groaned with the release. Slowly, his vision cleared and his breathing returned to normal. He touched the sticky front of his trousers with disgust and self-loathing. Weak, I am weak. The thought repeated in his mind. “No,” Father’s voice shouted over his self-condemnation, “it is the fault of women, most especially those who tempt man with the offer of their body. Redeem yourself by cleansing one of them in retribution for your temptation. Go, my son. Be worthy of me.”

  Jake pulled his thin jacket closer around him and moved along the dark alley in which he stood. It would bring him out into Mitre Square, perhaps he would stop for a chat with the night watchman in the warehouse there while he watched for soul to cleanse. Or maybe he should hunt elsewhere after the furore over the discovery of Kate’s body. The place might fair be crawlin’ with coppers.

  He prowled the dank streets searching for a likely victim. The Lord refused to answer his imprecations and the alleys and closes remained empty of women. The Almighty was punishing him for his weakness, refusing to allow him the solace of doing penance for his sins by engaging in the holy work he was charged with. Exhaustion dogged his steps and he stumbled down Brushfield toward Dorset. Finally gaining the questionable privacy of his room in Miller’s Court Jake shed the soiled trousers on the floor. He flinched and gritted his teeth as he cleaned his privates with the cold water in the pitcher. The icy liquid chased the last remnants of lust from his shrivelling flesh. Overcome with shame and disgust he pitched the clothing with their sticky reminder of his weakness into the hearth. Within moments a fire blazed fiercely consuming the evidence of his debasement. Shooting his wad in his pants … humiliation flared through him, heating his skin. So great was the humiliation Jake put his hands to his cheeks to soothe the burning pain. I am a disgrace, to meself, to Father, to Aggie, and most of all to the Lord God Almighty.

  Jake scrabbled for the Bible that lay on the table. Leviticus Chapters Five to Seven … his shaking fingers fumbled on the thin onion skin pages while he paced, unable to stay still. Where is it … where is it … the key to my salvation … how to save my eternal soul…. The book fell from his hand face down on the bed. He snatched it up and felt the breath leave his body when his eyes fell on the chapters it lay open at. The words leapt off the page at him….

  “And if a soul sin … then he shall bear his iniquity,” and further down: “And he shall bring his trespass offering unto the Lord for his sin which he hath sinned, a female from the flock … for a sin offering.” The letters swam before his eyes, the sound of his quickening breath was harsh in his ears. This was the chapter Father read from the night he freed Mam from the bondage of her sinning body. The verses came to life before him in the leaping flames of the hearth, scenes from a memory he’d rather forget. Father chanting and commanding Jake to repent for he was the fruit of the whore’s womb. “It is the burnt offering, because of the burning upon the altar all night unto the morning … he shall offer of it all the fat thereof, the rump and the fat that covereth the inwards.” He forced the sour bile back down his gullet as it rose at the vision of the fire burning white hot while Father fed it on Mam’s fat. White and streaked with scarlet blood it hissed as the fire claimed it. “And the two kidneys, and the fat which is on them, which is by the flanks, and the caul that is above the liver with the kidneys, it shall he take away….” He paused as a screech from the room beside him broke the vision. Well, Father had taught him another use for kidneys, hadn’t he? He claimed that by taking them into his own body, he cleansed himself and the woman of any sin. His selfless act of taking the diseased unclean organ meat into his own body in order to remove the taint of sin absolved him of the act of murder. For surely it was only possible to obtain the organs by means of stopping the life in the body.

  Jake collapsed onto the bed with the Bible clutched to his chest. His fingers tensed in time with the pulse thundering in his ears. The rhythmic squeak of bedsprings invaded his consciousness as his heart slowed. Lying in the faint light of the dying fire, the lamp long since guttered out, Jake tried to block out the sounds of carnal sin on the other side of the thin wall. Only the sharp slap of open-handed blows followed by shrill keening from the woman made it bearable. The man was helpless to resist the lure of the woman’s wanton body, but as was his right, he punished the temptress for her wickedness even while plunging into her body. Some of the blokes in the public houses bragged about the Judys who liked it a bit rough like. Their tales of the women’s debasement and self-punishment never failed to give him a cockstand. Pleasure and pain were so very close to each other. Jake’s hand fumbled to release his fly buttons. The turgid penis twitched as the cool air of the room licked at the shiny head. Jake stared at the bobbing tip blooming like a purpl
e tulip from his crotch. His fingers moved with a mind of their own and closed around it. The penis throbbed beneath his touch, closing his eyes Jake allowed the fingers to stroke the sensitive tip. The sounds from the room next door increased, something thumped the wall with each violent creak of the springs. His hand moved in time with the woman’s whimpers clearly audible through the paper thin walls. The other hand held the Holy Book hard to his chest to shield him from evil. Exquisite pressure built in his groin and he rocked his hips thrusting involuntarily into his fisted hand. Jaysus, I know I shouldn’t … but … oh … God … it feels so good … it hurts so bad … this is wrong, so wrong…. The rough edge of a hangnail scraped the engorged head of his penis, his fist closed harder at the unexpected stab of pain. He continued to increase the strangle hold on his cock, seeking to stop the explosion his body demanded, even while his buttocks rose and quivered in anticipation of the excitement. Gaining a small amount of control over his agitated senses Jake let the Bible fall to the side and dug in his shirt pocket for the device he kept there. His fingers found the cock ring and pulled it free. Still with a strangle hold on the shaft of the organ Jake attempted to force the ring over the purple head. The action only served to send new fissions of pain and pleasure rocketing through him. Grunting, he flicked the catch on the side of the ring and it snicked open. Ignoring the gyrating of his body as it strove to achieve release Jake manoeuvred the ring below the tip and forced it closed over the engorged penis. The bright flash of pain drove the breath from his body. His hands fell to the sides and he grasped the thin mattress convulsively. Release, he needed the release, one hand raised to his hip bone before he stopped it. He mustn’t give in to the temptation, he must be strong. Stronger than the desires raging in his body. His breathing slowed and the thrusting of his buttocks stopped. Jake waited, holding his breath, for the pulsing in his penis to subside. The woman in the neighbouring room let out an almighty screech and whatever was bashing the wall increased in tempo. The male voice roared obscenities accompanied by the slap of an open hand on bare flesh. Jake’s control slipped and the exquisite agony in his cock exploded in a blast of pain. Lights flared before his eyes as the convulsion shook him. His hands clawed at the constricting ring but the catch wouldn’t release. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his body shuddered while the waves of lust dominated him. Finally the catch gave way under his frenzied pawings and fell onto the bed beside him. The release was so great it carried him away. The next thing Jake knew he woke half dressed in the silence of the dead of night. He tucked his still tender penis into his pants and rolled over. Through the wall the quiet laughter of a woman taunted him. Damn them, damn them all to hell. He ground his teeth savagely and cursed himself for being all kinds of a weak fool. Twice in one night, twice—not once—he had given in to the temptation of the flesh. Allowed himself to be ruled by the desires of sin.

  He needed to get away from this hellhole for a while. Come first light he’d go down to the docks and find a ship leaving for America. A week or so alone on the vast Atlantic should give him the time he needed to get back into control. It meant a return journey with a ship full of stinking cattle but there was always the amusement to be had when one of the stupid beasts needed its throat slit. America, New York City, was full of sin and avarice. He could carry out his mission there as well as he could here in the East End. Or he could just take a break and give himself some time to breathe without being harassed by his duty. For some reason Father never plagued him out on the Atlantic or in New York. Jake had no idea why that was so, but he was eternally grateful for it.

  Chapter Twelve

  The weak sun of late October struggled to make itself known in the narrow alleys and closes of London’s East End. Jake stepped over the legs of a man sprawled on the edge of the road and barely glanced at a baby lying in an open doorway. He was in no hurry to answer auld man Fleischer’s summons which was delivered by a grimy stick thin chavy before the dawn broke. The boy woke him by pounding on the door till it unsnibbed itself and fell open. What in the blue blazes does the bleeder want? There were no need for a slaughter man this day and he’d be damned if he’d run messages for the bastard. The streets were crawling with children who could do that for him.

  Jake kicked savagely at a stray cat that ran across his path, mouth full of a squirming rodent. Bloody hell, he was poorly this morning. He pushed all thought of the events of the previous evening from his mind. Briefly, he considered ignoring the butcher’s summons and going down to the docks to sign up on a New York bound ship. Even as he decided that was what he was going to do his feet took him to Fleischer’s shop. Sighing deeply he shoved into the front of the shop.

  “Jacob, I didn’t expect to see ye this mornin’.” Aggie looked up in surprise from wrapping a bit of organ meat.

  “Aye, it’s a bit of agro, for sure. The boss sent a flyer to come and git me. D’ye know what’s up?” He nodded in response to the customer’s greeting but never took his gaze off Aggie. She coloured and dropped her gaze.

  “Vater,” she bellowed over her shoulder, “Jacob says ye sent fer him.”

  Jake bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently and moved to a crowded corner when another customer edged into the tiny front of the shop.

  “Go on away into the back. Ye’re blocking me custom,” Aggie commanded him.

  He shrugged and slid behind the counter just as Heinz clumped down the stairs from above.

  “Ah, Jacob, you have come,” he greeted his slaughter man.

  “Aye, what de ye want wi’ me?” Jake demanded. He was still smarting a bit from Aggie’s cool reception.

  Heinz took his arm and drew him further into the back of the shop. “It’s a favour I be needin’ from ye.”

  Jake frowned. What the flamin’ hell? He grunted and waited for the man to get on with it.

  “It’s Aggie,” he paused and blew out a breath between his lips, “I’m worried about her goin out by herself with that knife fellah about.”

  The slaughter man nodded and waited for the rest of it.

  “She’s got ‘erself involved with some wimmens goin’ ons for somethin or the t’other and I were hopin’ ye could see yerself free to go wi’ her. Guard her like … get ‘er there, wait fer ‘er and bring ‘er back to above when it’s over.”

  Jake shook his head and tried to sort out the mix of emotions flooding him.

  “Are ye sayin’ ye won’t, then?” Heinz demanded.

  “Why’re ye askin’ me?” he said instead of answering. His thoughts were too confusing to formulate a coherent reply. Time was needed to make sense of the situation. “Me job’s to slaughter the meat not—”

  “I’m after askin’ ye ‘cause ye’re a sound one. On time and do yer work wi’out me havin’ to chase ye. I need sommat I can trust to do it right,” he interrupted before Jake could finish the thought. “I’ll pay ye for yer time and stand ye for yer gargle whilst ye wait.”

  Fire twisted in Jake’s guts. It was a God-given chance to spend time with Aggie and with the father’s blessing. Maybe this was his chance to make the woman see the error of her ways, consorting with women who were no better than they should be and then walkin’ out with that Peeler detective. Aye, the Lord’s hand was on this, he was sure.

  “When d’ye need me t’do this thing, like?” Jake cocked his head to one side and regarded the older man.

  “Tuesdays and Thursdays, in the evening, like. The girl says the meetin’s start at ha’past seven and goes till nine. They meets somewheres over by the Ten Bells so ye’ll not have far ta go fer ta wet yer whistle. So, will ye do it?” Heinz raised an eyebrow and fisted a beefy hand on his ample hip.

  Jake hesitated, weighing things over in his mind. One part of him wanted nothing more than to get his arse on an ocean going vessel and seek the solace of the sea and the attractions of New York. Another part of him yearned to spend more time with Aggie. The woman in question laughed in the front of the shop and greeted someone who entered the b
utcher’s. Sighing, Jake shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “Aye, I’ll do it fer ye. But I wants me do rei me for the gargle up front, like. Afore I take her,” he said.

  A smile creased Heinz’s florid face and he thrust out a hand. “Aye, thanks be to ye, Jake. Can’t telt ye how much I appreciate it and ye’ll have yer bees and honey afore ye go.” The old German slipped into the cockney rhyming slang as easily as he sometimes forgot to speak the Queen’s English and lapsed into broken English.

  “There’s no work for a slaughter man today still?” Jake jerked his chin in the direction of the yard at the rear of the establishment.

  “Nein, nuttin’ t’day.” Heinz shook his head.

  “I’ll be along about quarter of seven then, does that suit ye for this evening?” Jake clarified.

  “Aggie’ll be ready. Just ring the bell at the front and she’ll be down directly,” Heinz agreed. He dug under his apron and shoved some coins into Jake’s hand. “Here’s yer gargle money now, don’t drink it all afore to-night. There’ll be no more from me till next time,” he warned.

  Jake nodded and thrust the coin into his pocket. He turned to leave and stopped dead. The flame-haired woman leaned on the counter gossiping with Aggie. The shadow of her breasts showed at the top of the dress. She was younger than he would have guessed the few times he’d seen her. The lilt of her Irish stung him like the hail he’d encountered on one Atlantic voyage. He ducked his head and made to move past the women and out the door.

  “Tochter,” Heinz interrupted the women’s conversation. “Jake’ll be takin’ ye to that there wimmen’s meetin’ to-night. Ye be sure and be ready at quarter of seven, girl.”